


All the Little Things, They Add Up

by Pegasus143



Series: Autism Acceptance Month 2019 One-Shots [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autism Acceptance Month 2019, Autistic Cole Anderson, Autistic meltdowns, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Implied/Referenced Ableism, Pre-Canon, Protective Parent Hank Anderson, Stimming, author is autistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 17:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus143/pseuds/Pegasus143
Summary: Guess I'm going to be doing one-shots for April now XDJust so you know, if you subscribe to the series this is in, there WILL be one-shots for other fandoms in there as well.If you want to know more about autism after reading this, I'd highly suggest looking up Amythest Schaber on YouTube and looking through their "Ask an Autistic" playlist. Their video on meltdowns is #15. I'm also willing to answer questions in the comments :)Obviously different people experience things differently, so Cole's experiences as an autistic person and Hank's experiences as a parent are not going to reflect everyone's experiences.





	All the Little Things, They Add Up

**Author's Note:**

> Guess I'm going to be doing one-shots for April now XD  
> Just so you know, if you subscribe to the series this is in, there WILL be one-shots for other fandoms in there as well.  
> If you want to know more about autism after reading this, I'd highly suggest looking up Amythest Schaber on YouTube and looking through their "Ask an Autistic" playlist. Their video on meltdowns is #15. I'm also willing to answer questions in the comments :)  
> Obviously different people experience things differently, so Cole's experiences as an autistic person and Hank's experiences as a parent are not going to reflect everyone's experiences.

Cole clung to Hank’s hand as they walked through the parking lot outside his school. Cole was oddly silent—usually he happily described the little moments throughout the day when he’d been playing with one of the other kids in his class, or answering a question from the teacher correctly, or working on his half-finished comic book. Lately, he’d been quieter as they left school at noon. Hank had a feeling that something was going on, but Cole’s teacher insisted that everything was fine and that Cole was an excellent student.  
“Up we go,” Hank said, grunting a little as he lifted Cole into his car seat. As he buckled the harness, he noticed some wet spots around the collar of Cole’s shirt, as well as at the ends of his sleeves. _He must’ve been chewing on them… what happened to sucking his thumb? And that’s a lot of saliva… he usually doesn’t chew that much, even when he was worried about going to school for the first time._  
“Do you want McDonald’s?” Hank asked as he climbed in, buckling his seatbelt.  
“Yeah,” Cole replied, much less enthusiastically than normal. As they started driving, Hank glanced back at Cole in the rearview mirror. He was sucking his thumb and looking up and to the side, presumably out the window. _Did someone say something about him sucking his thumb at school?_  
Luckily, it was a bit after the lunchtime rush when they arrived at the restaurant, so there was only one person ahead of them in line. Cole flapped his arms excitedly with a bigger smile on his face than Hank had seen all day. He remembered the first time he’d brought Cole here—he’d been nervous, knowing that the restaurant was pretty loud with the beeping of the various machines and the music coming from the play area. Cole had only been three, and just recently diagnosed, so Hank wasn’t sure how he would take to that much noise. It was definitely more than he was used to. To Hank’s surprise, Cole had absolutely loved it—in fact, he loved sound, always talking about music class in school or asking Hank to turn up the radio in the car. _He didn’t even ask me to put on Knights of the Black Death while we were driving here,_ he realized. _Something’s definitely up._  
“Where do you want to sit?” Hank asked after they’d ordered and gotten their food.  
Cole tugged on Hank’s hand, leading him to the play area at the back of the restaurant. They sat down in the same booth they always did and Hank handed Cole his kid’s meal off the tray. As he unwrapped his own food, he tried to figure out what to say. “What did you do at school today?” he finally asked, figuring it was a safe question that would let Cole get comfortable by talking about whatever he wanted to.  
“We used these things—“ Cole set down his hamburger and made a gesture of smashing his knuckles together “—and counted with them.”  
_He must be talking about those little block things that hook together. I was surprised they even still used them when we saw his classroom before school started._ “How high did you count?”  
“We were supposed to count to ten… I counted to three. I kept getting the numbers mixed up,” Cole said, sounding like he was about to cry.  
“Hey, that’s alright. You’ve got plenty of time to learn numbers.”  
“But—but—but—“ Cole started hitting his hand against the table repeatedly. “I can’t get the letters right either!”  
“That’s okay, too,” Hank said, trying to sound calming. He could tell Cole was pretty close to a meltdown, and started debating whether they should stay at the restaurant or if they would be able to get home before it happened. All of Cole’s favorite comfort items were at home, and a meltdown could become dangerous for him here. There weren’t exactly any piles of pillows around for Cole to squeeze, punch, throw, or whatever he needed to do to get through it. Then he thought of a third idea.  
“Hey, let’s listen to some Knights of the Black Death in the car, okay?” Hank said, wrapping up what was left of their burgers and stuffing them into his pockets. Cole had only eaten about half of his and would probably be hungry for the rest of it later.  
Cole nodded, letting Hank pick him up, and adjusting himself so his hands were free. One thumb immediately went into his mouth, while his other hand started flapping.  
Hank walked briskly out the door to the restaurant, passing a woman with a couple young kids who gave him a sharp, judgmental look. He ignored it. Cole needed his attention and energy right now, not some random mom who probably thought she knew better than him. He buckled Cole into his car seat before getting in and turning on the radio to the Knights of the Black Death CD he had in. Yes, Jeff still knew how to burn CD’s for Hank. He’d teased him lightly about all the Knights of the Black Death at first, until one time Hank mentioned something about Cole liking them. Pretty unusual for a kid to like, and even more unusual for a parent to use to get their kid away from having a meltdown, but he figured that the last part was just because the Autism Moms™ didn’t like heavy metal.  
Hank didn’t start the car, instead just waiting for Cole to do whatever he needed to. He heard the thunking of Cole’s foot against the back of the passenger seat, as well as a couple bangs of his head against the backrest of his car seat, which had a built-in pillow. Most parents probably would’ve scolded their kid for getting the seat dirty, but Hank didn’t care—the car was pretty beat-up as it was, and it certainly wasn’t going to get any newer, with most people switching to autonomous vehicles these days.  
Hank waited for several minutes as Cole’s movements slowed and his eyelids drooped. Poor kid. First the normal energy exertion of school, then the extra of a meltdown. “We’re going to head home now, okay? Then you can take a nap.”  
When they arrived home, he got Cole out of the car and carried him to the house. Cole seemed to be doing better now, would probably need a nap, and the rest of his hamburger, before he'd be able to keep going with the day. As Hank turned his key in the lock, he heard the sound of panting and a couple barks from inside. Cole lifted his head up slightly from where he’d laid it on Hank’s shoulder.  
When Hank opened the door, Sumo bounded up to Hank’s feet, and Cole motioned to be let down. He set his son down gently, then put a hand on the puppy, hoping the dog would calm down a bit. Sumo was the “will knock your small child over” kind of puppy, not the “will sleep soundly in the palm of your hand” kind. He watched as Cole and Sumo made their way to Cole’s room, where he guessed the two would fall asleep together. Cole and Sumo had their own way of communicating that Hank didn’t quite understand, but he was happy for them all the same.  
Hank slipped their leftover food into the fridge, then poked his head into Cole’s room, where Sumo was laying down quietly while Cole buried his hands in the dog’s fur. They’d both be asleep soon enough. _They’ll always be fine, as long as they have each other._  
Meanwhile, Hank had a phone call to Cole’s teacher to make about those math lessons, thumb-sucking, and whatever else was causing Cole problems at school.


End file.
